They went round to some seats placed beneath trees on the other side of the house. A fountain worked by the water of a little rill on the hillside played in front of them, and a few tame waterfowl swam in a shallow basin around it. Everything was still and peaceful, and to Chebron it seemed as if the events of the last three weeks had been a hideous dream, and that they were again sitting in the garden of their house at Thebes. “Now, first of all,” Mysa said, “I must have my questions answered. How are my father and mother and everyone?” Jethro took Amuba’s arm and turned away. “We will leave you, Chebron, to tell Mysa what has taken place. It will be better for you to do so alone.” Ruth rose from her seat to leave also, but Mysa put her hand on her arm. “I am frightened, Ruth; stay with me.” “You told me, Mysa,” Chebron began, “that they had told you tales that our father was dead, and that it was I who killed Paucis.” “Yes; but I did not believe them, Chebron. Of course I did not for a moment--at least not for a moment about you. But when I thought of those bad men at the gate, and the crash we heard, and the noise of the people rushing in shouting, I thought--I was afraid--that perhaps it might be true about our father. But, oh, Chebron, surely it is not so?” “Alas! Mysa, it is true! They cruelly slew our father. I wish I had been there to have fallen by his side; but you know Amuba and I were away. Jethro fought desperately to the last, and would have died with him had not our father himself commanded that in case anything happened to him he was to take charge of me, and to carry me out of the land.” Mysa was crying bitterly now. Presently she looked up. “But why should you want to leave the land, Chebron? Surely--surely it is not true that you----” The thing seemed too terrible for her to put into words. “That I killed poor Paucis? That is true also, Mysa.” Mysa gave a little cry of horror. “Oh, Ruth!” she cried, “this is too dreadful!” Ruth put her arms round the sobbing girl. “You may be sure, Mysa, that your brother did not do it intentionally.” “But it is all the same,” Mysa cried. “It was the sacred cat, you know--the Cat of Bubastes.” “It was, Mysa; and I thought at first, as you did, that although it was the result of an accident the anger of the gods would be poured out against me, that I was as one accursed, whose life was forfeited in this world, and whose spirit was destined to dwell in unclean beasts after death. But when I told my father all, he reassured me, and told me not to fear in any way the wrath of the gods.” He then related to his sister the manner in which the cat had been killed, the steps he and Amuba had taken to conceal the body, and his avowal to his father of his fault. “I see it was not your fault, Chebron. But you know the laws of Egypt, and the punishment for killing even a common cat. How could our father say that the gods would not be angry?”